


Blood Type X

by nezushiet



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Femdom, Horror, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform, Science Fiction, Some Humor, Violence, bottom male, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-01-06 08:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18384884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezushiet/pseuds/nezushiet
Summary: University student Neal Herandez lives a relatively peaceful life.  No crime in his part of town, and certainly no one searching to acquire his perfectly normal blood.  His life is what one considers "average" and maybe even a little boring at times, vacant of supernatural beings like the ones that can't be seen in mirrors or possess superhuman strength.Right.  Said No One Ever.





	1. Part One: Fantasy

 

It all happens to Neal in a flash. 

Granted, he figures that's how most attacks go, unless the attacker wanted to give the victim time to escape, which, no attacker ever would, unless they were flat out stupid.  
  


At first, the ginger 20 year old pieced together his current predicament by small fragments.   First, the reek of booze, next the gang leader's snarl at the side of Neal's head, and finally, the punch in the gut as the big reveal.  
  


"I'm sick of playing your games, Clifford."  The man raises his voice to a deafening volume, nailing his palm into Neal's shoulder so he couldn't squirm away.  The four men behind him all wear yellow bandanas around the neck, and sickening wide grins.  
  


Neal's vision darkens a moment from the pain in his stomach, and with gritted teeth, he tries to take in a shallow breath.  
  


"You- you've got the wrong guy!" Neal rushes out.  He feels a twinge of humiliation from how squeaky and high his voice sounds trapped under the taller male.  Regardless of the circumstances he always sounds half his age.  "My name isn't even that! It's Neal! Dude you have to believe me! I don't got beef with you!"  
  


"The hell you don't."   The man says, grabbing a fist full of Neal's hair and pulling him down the alleyway.

"Ow, ow, ow-" 

He really ought to stop taking shortcuts through alleys at night.

His back is shoved to the wet asphalt, and he tries to back away from the leader's gangmates hovering over him.  Among the shadows infesting the alleyway Neal makes out his first assailant pulling out a gun from his jacket.  The act alone is enough to make his throat constrict and heart drop to his stomach. 

"This is over. It's time you pay, with your blood." 

A voice inside him begged him to run, but something about staring up the barrel of a gun froze his muscles to stone. 

"Hold your fire."  A woman's voice cut in from behind him.  He whips his head around.  Blocking the end of the alley, stands a pale blonde woman with her chin raised.  The sight ignites a harsh bout of laughter from the gang members. 

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing.  Clifford, has your girlfriend come to save you?"  The leader cocked his head to the side with a grin. 

"Um- again m-my name's not Cliff-" He is cut off by the boss' heel slamming into his side, the pain is enough to make him cry out.  
  


"You humans appear to be experiencing issues with brain function, so I will reiterate:" The woman steps forward, the clack of her heels emanating off the brick walls.   " _he is not your prey_."  
  


"Yeah?" The man asks, digging his foot in deeper.   "You're awfully confident for a girl, tell you what," he now points the gun at her.  "If you want him so bad, i'd like to see you come and get him."  
  


With his eyes screwed shut from the pain, he doesn't see the man cock his gun, but amidst the tense silence he hears the _click_ as clear as day.  
  


"It would be my pleasure."  She replies.   
  


Within the next seconds Neal hears a barrage of bullets firing and men screaming as he curls himself into the trusty fetus position.  With the man's foot removed from his side, breathing has become the tiniest bit easier.  
  


Until a cold hand grabs him.  
  


An arm snakes under his back as he is lifted to sit up before her shaking form.   All the other men lay motionless and crimson around him.  
  


"Whoa... You took all them on and you're completely unscathed? That's awesome..."  He glances around the corpses in awe.  


"Thank you, human, but my energy is critically low.  I require sustenance."  
  


"Oh, sure thing," Neal smiles up at his rescuer. "I know a place down the street that serves some killer pizza.   My treat."  
  


She shakes her head.  "You don't understand. Listen carefully. I am _a creature of the night_.  I crave the rare delicacy which only _you_ can provide." 

"Oh,"  Neal blinks owlishly. "which is?"

"Blood type X."  She whispers the words as if they were something revered.

 _Blood type X.   Where have I heard that before?_ The ginger desperately racked his brain until the connection struck.   Last April, he underwent a lifesaving bloodtranfusion after a car crash, and when he started to wake up from the drugs wearing off, he heard his doctor say something to one of the nurse's about a blood type X.  
  


He looks back at the woman with her heated gaze.  
  


"I... wait...could you... like smile for me?"  
  


He needs to make sure this was actually happening.  
  


When she turns her lips upward her face looks a bit strained, almost like she was trying to smile for the first time ever.   That didn't really matter much to Neal though, because it confirmed his suspicion.   Below her lips glistens two white, pearly fangs.  
  


"Holy shit!   Um, okay, I guess as thanks you could drink my hand..."   He shakily offers his palm up.  She takes it and dips her head down.  
  


"So, can there be like a countdown?  Like down from three so I know when to- ow ow!  Oh God that fucking stings!   Is this supposed to sting so bad- mmph!!"  He is cut off when the vampire forcefully grabs his face to cover his lips.  
  


His ears strain to catch a small noise rumbling from the blonde's throat as she tightens her jaw around the flesh of his palm.  With time Neal is relieved to feel the pain subsiding, only to find that might be connected to his sudden lightheartedness.  He frantically begins slapping the woman's wrist with a muffled scream, because the last thing he needs right now is to pass out from blood loss.  
  


She releases him with a gasp, her features cloudy with an euphoric expression.  He gawks at her humming with satisfaction.     
  


"State your title, blood X human."  She murmurs.  
  


"Neal?" He cradles his bloody hand to his chest.  
  


"Why do you sound so unsure?  Are you unfamiliar with your own title?"    
  


Her question causes him to stammer for a moment.

"It's not that! I know my own name..."  
  


"So Neal is correct?"  
  


"Yeah."  He answers with confidence this time.  "Neal Hernández."  
  


"Well then, Neal Hernández, please allow me to transport you to your ideal location for recuperation."

\-------

He has no explanation for his confused flatmates as to why a strange woman has carried him bridal style into their apartment, but he feels much too exhausted and sore to care.  


	2. Part Two: Horror

When Neal wakes from under his covers a groan slips from his lips as slivers of sunlight assault his eyes. Mornings have never been kind to him. His hand instinctively drifts to the hem of his shirt to find loud violet patches scattered over his skin. All swollen and larger than the palm of his hand.  And dammit,  _it hurts_.  Another groan leaves his mouth as the shirt falls back over his stomach.

 

Last night barely seems real, but his skin has bloomed in reds, yellows, and blues as proof along with the puncture wounds on his left palm that she gave him.

 

Fuck, who even was she?

 

Whoever she was, she isn't around anymore, so Neal blearily wobbles out of bed to switch shirts.

 

It smells like bacon in the living room and his heart seizes up. There's a lanky Asian sprawl on the couch drowning in throw pillows Neal bought during clearance week. It takes the ginger a moment to recognize him from a frat party he keeps trying to forget. A cooking show plays with threadlike volume. It's not anyone is paying attention anyway.

 

"Hey daddy."

 

"Cut it out. I'm not your daddy dude." Neal says, his face aflame.

 

"Sorry..."

 

Neal huffs before storming to the kitchen. His flatmate Igor works a spatula over the oven while adorned in a baby blue apron, platinum waves tied back in a small ponytail.

 

" _Who let him in the apartment?_ " Neal scream-whispers, pointing at the couch.

 

Igor shoves a paper plate with breakfast to Neal with a small sigh.

 

"Nelson did. The guy was all baked out here at 8 this morning. Please don't ask anymore."

 

"Jeez..." he says while fishing in the drawers for silverware.  _Empty... Plastic fork it is then_. 

 

"I'm going to have to bitch at Nelson later in he forgot that it's his turn this week to do the dishes." Igor calls over his shoulder.

 

"Yeah. This looks amazing, your omlettes are a piece of work."

 

Igor hums at the praise, and folds his apron away with movements of grace and precision. He reminds Neal of a swan at times, though he never dares to openly admit it.

 

\------------

A walk away is his ecology lecture, the room of 70 students are draped in shadows as his professor Dr. Tusk dims the lights for a presentation. It vaguely reminds him of the alleys. Neal shivers and aches through the entire bit.

 

"Herandèz." Dr. Tusk calls as he is about to pass the doorway. Never has the man called him by his first name.

 

"Yes sir?" He steps back, making room for other students to file out as his fingers play with the strap of his bag.

 

"Would it be alright if you joined me in my office for a few words? Don't worry, this is merely about grades."

 

Dr. Tusk's office has a bright atmosphere with a tall window despite the walls giving a decayed, multi-colored hue from the hundreds of books slanted along his shelves. He takes a seat in front of the man's desk as he hears the soft click of the door close shut.  An army of potted succulents and ferns sit around the room.

 

"Uhm, so about my gra--" 

A cloth clamps over the lower half of his face before he can finish.  _No, this is-_   _no no no._  He squirms and writhes against the man with a panicked scream, but he isn't strong enough to slip away. A second calloused hand closes around his throat to keep him pinned to the chair. He's clawing at the man's wrists and pouring his strength into pulling the his hands off him. Pleading to himself  _don'tbreathedon'tbreathe_  
_don't breathe it in!_

 

Soon, like a flick of a switch, everything goes black.

 

The first person he sees once coming to is Dr. Tusk again, but the place is different. The sharp smell of musk bashes at his senses while strapped in a chair. He scans around past brick walls and drawn blinds and comes to the conclusion he's no longer on campus. His heart palpitates like a bird trapped in a cage.  He can hear it in his ears.

 

Another figure dances into his view wearing a lab coat and brown bun on the top of her head. Maybel, one of his lab assistants.

 

"Dr. Tusk! He's awake!" She grins, placing some potted greenery down on a table. There are Venus fly traps and mini rose bushes along with some variations of ferns to be seen. Neal doesn't get it.

 

"Finally," His professor saunters over to Neal, lips stretched taut into a smile, it looks seconds away from snapping. "you have  _no idea_  how long I've been planning for this day to come. When word got out that you possessed such untapped, radical power, I knew I had to get my hands on you."

 

"What the hell do you plan to with to me?"

 

"I'm so glad you asked. You see... I like to think everybody is a book of blood; whenever we're opened, we're red." He leans low, lips grazing the shell of Neal's ear. "That's what I plan to do, I'm going to open your skin, Natalia, and feed your red to all my little friends."

 

"Name's Neal." He replies with sparks of ire barely restrained, and moves his head away some, nauseated from the thread-small proximity.  So nice to find his dead name rearing up at a time like this. 

"As for untapped..." His mouth felt dry, he hopes he can pull off a bluff. "I've been leached off of already, and claimed by someone you really don't want to mess with. Probably on her way now. Leave while you still can."

 

It wasn't true, that woman already got what she wanted from him.

 

_No reason for her to stick around._

 

Dr. Tusk barks a jagged laugh.

 

"Maybel, bring over the flytraps."

 

"Got it!"  Maybel hurries over and smiles at Neal, but there is only sadistic sweetness over her face.  Dr. Tusk prepares a needle for drawing blood.  Neal never liked needles, but since realizing he was trans they have become a necessary part of his life.  He flinches when the tip pricks his arm and tries to think of distracting nonsense to shake the repulsive sensation off of him.    

 

"Now, watch carefully!" 

 

The Venus trap is no larger than the man's palm, but when Dr. Tusk injects the blood into the soil the plant grows before everyone's eyes.  When the pot completely shatters Maybel yelps.  Roots are shooting outward as the plant's mouths quadruple in size.  

"Yes! Yes! It's working!"  Dr. Tusk grabs the other plants and repeats his actions.  All the plants are changing, and Neal has no idea how to stop it.     

 


	3. Part Three: Sci-Fi

"Yes! Wonderful! Grow my little ones." Dr. Tusk swings his arms out as if to bask in his own handiwork. A rose bush is unfurling out of its pot and grows larger thorns as blossoms open into a deep shade of garnet. Neal's mouth is hanging a bit from the sight unfolding. His eyes settle on Dr. Tusk, with his crazed expression as his whole body shakes from maniacal laughter.  _What is he planning to do with these plants?_  He feels so useless; he jerks against his restraints only to have nothing budge.

A tickling sensation spreads across Neal's leg before he is face to face with the venus fly trap. The heads are about the size of his closed fist, and he swallows as he feels the roots nestling over his lap. He stays very still, and wonders for a second if plants can smell fear. In corner of his field of vision the fern inches closer, tendrils scaling the monochrome floor. Despite this, the plant's movements don't come across as hostile to Neal, in fact, he squints, they almost look concerned.

"What are you doing? Get off him!" Maybel scolds before grabbing the stem to pull the venus fly trap off. The mouths dart for her jugular before she has time to scream and Neal cringes when the spurting blood splatters across his face. Her body hits the floor with a thud. He can't tear his eyes away from her.

"Oh dear... A bit feisty I see... But that's good! Yes! I'll take even more blood before we discard off our guest."

The sound of glass breaking echoes throughout the room, and sunlight pours out from a window. Neal recognizes the woman who charged in immediately. She gives him a cold stare.

"Hello, my trouble-prone human."

The relief he feels is indescribable. He wants to leave this place so badly. All the leather straps over his arms and legs make him feel trapped, and all the plants trying to blanket around him are not helping.

"You're here," he says with shock. "Oh thank God."

 

"Who the hell are you?" Dr. Tusk asks, stumbling a back a bit.

 

"I call myself Susan," she begins to stretch her arms. "and I am afraid you will not be the one doing any discarding today."

 

The way she moves can barely be seen with Neal's eyes, and only a second passes before her manicured nails are poking through the end of his professor's back. She retracts her hand, and he too collapses in a pool of his own blood.

 

"Ah damn, Maybel's blood is dripping down my eyebrows... It's-fuckkk it's getting in eyes! Help me help me quick." Neal haphazardly flops his head around with shut eyes.

An intoxicating scent wafts to his nose as delicate rose petals dab his face. He's speechless for a few moments.

"Oh, thank you. Can you cut my bindings too?"

Thorny tendrils set to work from his elbow down to his ankles, he stares at how the constraints snap apart like they're a single strand of hair. Neal rubs his sore wrists with a sigh of relief. Finally, he can go home now. He doesn't even have to work on that stupid ecology project anymore.

The fern and venus fly trap cling around his waist and neck as he stands up.

 

"So... Susan, right?"

 

"Affirmative." She approaches him and wipes away some blood off his face. She pauses a moment, face uncertain, before bringing her hand to her lips.

 

"Delectable." She hums.

 

"Gross..."

 

"It is of ill taste to waste food, and I've worked up an appetite over the last few hours. Anyways, we need to go. I'm taking you to with me to the nearest subway station."

 

"Huh? Where for?"

 

She checks her phone. "A high-tech garage in south east London."

 

"But I want to go home," he whines.

 

"Listen, we are on a bit of a time crunch here, and word one as well, considering we only have approximately 348 left."

 

"Susan, what are you talking about?"

 

"You can ask questions later. Come on," she took his wrist and dragged him outside.

***

The ride proceeds with little interruption, thankfully plants are allowed on board. Neal doubts he can separate them from himself anyway. Susan explains to him that his doctor reached out to her, requesting to meet with him and discuss his condition.

Together they find the street of the address and Susan taps her knuckles on the door. It rolls up on the third knock with a loud groaning noise.

 

"Doctor Jean!" Neal calls, hoping to spot her among among the flashing gizmos and computers rowed along the walls.

 

"Yes! I'm here!" A blonde woman stumbles out from behind a hanging bed of wires. She quickly dusts off her lab coat. "Come in!"

 

They do, Neal's converse shoes scuff lightly on the glowing green neon concrete.

 

"Good Afternoon, Neal." She smiles. Her hands begin to flick some switches along the wall and garage door descends back down. "I've been dying to talk to you, and I know you have questions, so please make yourselves at home."

 

Neal does, with Susan following behind him.

 

"Doctor, after my surgery, you mentioned a blood type X?"

 

"My scientific breakthrough, yes, a genetic infusion of combined blood types among other things that has saved your life.  No other operation could have done this."

 

"But now his life is in even more danger. I just secured him out of a kidnapping, and the reason I couldn't reach him sooner was because my kind are hunting him down." Susan cuts in.

 

"Yes well, I will have to mail you a smell canceler.  Neal, have you experienced any other side effects?" 

 

Neal thinks a moment.  "Now that you mention it... These plants took some of my blood, and now they won't leave me alone."  He notices her perk up at that.

 

"They aren't hurting you, right?"  Doctor Jean snatches a clip board off and begins scribbling away.  

 

"No, it's nothing like that.  I mean, I know they're very powerful, but they haven't been aggressive towards me so far."

 

"That's good to hear.  It's funny... you see, the Blood X experiments were originally conducted on the runt of dog litters.  The runt's health would remained stable, but over time reports started to show other dogs becoming possessive of the runt.  I originally paid little mind to it, but now you have me curious."  Doctor Jean checks her watch before a swear leaves her lips.

 

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave now." She stand abruptly and ushers them out a side before patting Neal on the back.  "I hoped this has helped you better understand you situation. Please update me if any new changes occur."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a fyi: this story is for a wattpad contest, and the rules were each chapter had to be near 1000 words. I also had to choose from some given science fiction locations, i choose the garage. 
> 
> if you want to check it out my username is nihilismics,,, im too lazy to link it at the moment ^^' 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! It really means alot. despite the contest being over, I plan to continue Neal's adventure here.


	4. Part Four

_“The blood x experiments were originally conducted on the runt of dog litters.  The runt’s health would remain stable, but over time reports started to show other dogs becoming possessive of the runt.”_

_“When word got out that you possessed such untapped, radical power, I knew I had to get my hands on you.”_

_“My scientific breakthrough, yes, a genetic infusion of combined blood types among other things that has saved your life.  No other operation could have done this.”_

Neal knew his life after the accident would change forever.  He just didn’t think it would turn out like this. With Michelle no longer here to joke and explore new places with, he expected the world to lose its vibrancy and color.    

But the world remained.  It didn’t pause a second for her.

 . . . 

A breeze drifts from his window but it fails to stave away the heat.  Neal spazzes the mousepad of his laptop while laying on the floor in his boxers.  Shrivelled Capri Sun drinks lay discarded around the room. He holds onto to his Club Penguin login info for days like this.  

 

He is in the middle of pummeling a green penguin with snowballs when his venus fly trap shifts to sit on his keyboard, blocking his view.  The plant reminds of him a cat in moments like these. It always demands the most attention, unlike the fern that is sitting on his back or the rose bush that stays in the corner of his room.  With a groan, he sits up to fetch some water in an attempt to appease the strange leafy thing. The fern plops down when he rises.

 

A bowl of faucet water gather the three plants together.  It’s amusing to watch them drain the water with their roots dipped inside the bowl.  

 

“The scent of body respiration off you is stronger today.”

 

He whirls around.  Susan crouches over his window frame, expression stony.  

 

“Yeah, our AC broke last night.”

 

“Your attire is indecent.”

 

Neal glances down at his blue boxers.  There’s relief from her not bringing up the scars on his chest.  The cuts have healed enough, but the discolored lines are still visible.      

 

“It’s not like I’m going out anytime soon.”  Neal defends.

 

“If my observations are precise, you have not gone ‘out’ in the last three days, two hours, and fourteen minutes.”

 

Her diamond blue eyes pierce into him.  He looks away and rakes a hand through his oily hair.  Deep down, he knows she’s right, but hates hearing it. The room is silent until he takes a sharp breath.  

 

“That isn’t your business.”

 

“Except that it is.”  The comeback is instantaneous.  “Being your over-watcher, it is protocol to keep an eye on you.  If an urgent circumstance arose, I would perish for you.”

 

“Super cool.  I’m going back to my game now." He says, turning away.

 

A hand grabs the nape of his neck, rough and cold.  Neal halts the second her hand contacts him. It unerves him how his legs lose a fraction of their strength.  He swallows.

 

"Your behavior is off, Neal Heràndez." She tightens her grip.

 

The last thing he wants is to talk about it, but she gives him not a lot of other choices.  His hands clench around his boxers while a quiet encapsules the room.

 

“Dr. Tusk, the man you saved me from—”

 

“I've saved you from a lot of men.  Please be more specific.”

 

“ _Look_ —” Neal snaps. “the— the point is he told me _word was out_ about my blood.  That it had some sort of power.  If he knows, who's not to say that everybody knows?    
 

Her fingers loosen and he seizes the moment to slip away from her.

 

“Everytime time I go outside, someone tries to kidnap me, or shoot me, or torture me.  All because I was the one who lived from a fancy blood transfusion!”

 

He laughs, distantly aware of the the sound slipping off his lips.

 

“The more I think about it, the more I don't see this as a second chance at life. I see it as punishment.”

 

“Punishment?”  Her brows knit, and she gracefully hops down from the window frame.  Champagne curls linger around her jawline. If it wasn’t for her fangs, Neal could confuse her for an angel.

 

“In April, a drunk driver collided into my friend and I while driving back from a frat party late at night, but she was the one who should have lived.  I’m just a broke no-one who doesn’t know what to do with his life. She was going into environment studies; she was going to help find a way to save the earth.”

 

“A noble effort.”  Susan says.

 

“I told her to go to the party.  She originally didn’t want to go. If I had just listened to her… she’d still be alive.”  

 

It's the first time he's told anyone that. 

 

"I hear you."  Susan's voice is soft now.  "You're worried. You're grieving."

 

Neal can't find it in himself to manage a coherent reply.  His teeth grit together as he stalls in the agonizing heat, stinging eyes examine his cream bare wall. 

 

"Come here." 

 

He steps forward in form of voluntary resignition until they're less than an arm's length apart.  Neal starts a little at the cold palms cradling his face.  They trail up to press into his forehead, then migrate over his neck.

 

It feels amazing.

 

"You're too hot."

 

"Thanks you're not bad looking yourself." Neal mumbles into her palm numbly. 

 

"I didn't—no, it doesn't matter..."  She leans down a little to bring her face close, causing a blush to set over his cheeks.  His eyes go wide like saucers.  _She isn't about to—should I close my eyes?  Oh God, what do I—?_

 

"I urge you to take a cold shower."  She articulates with a level stare, delicately removing her hands.  "I will station here while you refresh yourself.  We can talk more about your safety after."

 

"Right."  Neal sheepishly slaps a hand over his neck.  "Guess that would help." 

 

One foot is out the door before he glances back at her, the corner of his lips flicker up.  "Thank you.  You're a good person, you know that?"

 

The blonde drapes herself over his twin bed with a huff.  "My kind are creatures that fear the sun. There is no such thing as a good vampire."

 

"Yeah...not until you."   He remarks before closing the door behind him.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contest is over and I'm surprised to say I did win so thats neat, hype hype, anyways what did you guys think? Susan's line's 'I would perish for you' gave me feels ugh 
> 
> next chapter i plan to introduce a main antagonist of the series, i think a lot of people will like him


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